Roman Soldier
by StoryNerd13
Summary: Camp Jupiter, a regular camp for demigods located in the Bay Area has always stuck to the rules and its old stereotypes. Vencia Stiltson, my OC, has arrived recently in the turbulence of it all, and, frankly, is a bit confused. The only one who she can relate to is Nico di Angelo, who isn't the most trusted guy around. The stakes are high as fellow demigods spread rumors. Nico/OC.
1. Chapter 1: Conquer or Die

Roman Soldier

A/N: Hey guys! StoryNerd13 here with a brand-new FanFiction! I'll try to keep this author's note short and sweet so you can get to reading it, but a bit of background and summary first.  
This is a Nico/OC story, first of all, with my female OC and Straight!Nico. At the conclusion of The House of Hades, yes, Nico was proven to have a crush on Percy, but this is FanFiction, a chaotic realm where characters' sexualities have been known to change from story to story, so yes, don't criticize me on the fact that Nico likes girls in this.  
Moving on from that awkward topic, a bit of heads-up considering the plot, updating times, and OCs.  
Plot is a bit complicated here. I don't want this tone solely based around Nico and my OC, persay, but rather my OC's experiences and relationships as she learns what it's like to be a demigod. (My OC is basically me as a demigod. Lol.)  
I might be taking requests for OCs, but mostly, my OCs are based off of my friends and I, and the writing corresponds to however I'm feeling when I write this.  
I will try to update this FanFiction ASAP, mostly weekly, as I don't aim to neglect it, but my life keeps me quite busy, surprisingly, so if the new chapters seem a bit late, have faith that I'll post a new one. My apologies in advance.

Chapter 1: Conquer or Die  
I had been traveling on foot for days, hounded by monsters with only my wits and a kitchen knife to defend myself. I gripped the wooden handle grudgingly and sighed. It had cut me more than it had my enemies, with no sheath to keep it hidden either. Getting into a cab without the cops being called would've been a miracle. Since my foster parents in San Francisco had turned out to be monsters, I'd been on the run. They had told me the world of Roman Mythology was true, and they weren't kidding. Every street corner I turned, some weird creature had made an appearance. Dracaena, they had called themselves. Or Laistrygonians. Or empousai. Whatever they boasted their name to be, they had tried to kill me. I groaned as my stomach growled and kicked at me, begging me for a meal. The last thing I ate was a stale bagel that a fat lady in a fur coat tossed at me out of charity. I'd rather starved to death, but I ate it anyways. Stomach rules over morals.  
I'd come to a long, winding road with cars rushing past. Thick forestry lined a tunnel entrance, which was guarded by two figures in solid golden armor. Off task, I wondered how in the world did they got their gear polished like that? I nervously approached as a guy stopped and threw a penny out his car window at me. I scowled, picked up the penny, and threw it back at his car, denting the hood slightly. He didn't seem to notice as he drove off.  
I didn't need his help. I was doing fine on my own, and like a penny was going to make a difference. 'Thanks mister, for that penny! Now I can go buy that yacht I always wanted!'  
The guards were holding shields and spears, standing so stiff against the wall, at first I thought they were mannequins of some sort. Then one sat down and started arranging some cards of some sort and polishing a little figurine. He or she called the other guard over, and they started playing a game of some sort, chatting up a storm. I silently crept over and approached them.  
"Hi," I greeted, craning my neck over one's shoulder to see what they were up to. It wasn't a second before the guard I was peering over had me pinned to the wall with his sword. He shouted a few remarks in- was that Latin? At me and sneered behind his visor. I dropped the cheap knife I had brought from home. That is, if you could call a leaky, run-down apartment with buzzing lights in which I was held captive by monsters a home. The other guard, obviously better-mannered than his companion, gave some orders in Latin to the guy who was pointing the sword at my throat. He had a bow instead of a sword strapped to his side, and he looked pretty proud of himself in comparison of the other guard, a bit unusual for not doing anything. His friend sheathed his blade and questioned me, "Who are you?"  
For a moment, I was too shocked to respond. I had just come across two armored guards standing near a tunnel with cars driving past that had tried to kill me. Then I took a deep breath and backed up against the wall even further.  
"My name's Venica Stiltson. I'm from San Francisco, California, and I speak English," I repeated slowly. "Do you?"  
The guard who had told his buddy to buzz off nudged the other and pushed him aside. His golden armor seemed to glimmer in the sunlight, hurting my eyes. "Yeah," he said. "I speak English. Latin too," he boasted. "I'm also a member of the second cohort, and marked as 'excellent' in swordsmanship."  
"What's a cohort? And why do you use a bow, then?" I noted.  
He paused, as if looking for a cue line. "Did I mention that I'm in the second cohort?"  
I shook my head in exasperation. "Look, I don't know who you guys are, but I do know that I've been chased across California without rest, much less food, and I-"  
The guard in shiny armor patted my shoulder sympathetically, and I hissed and withdrew my arm. I hate to be touched. Even with people I know, it feels uncomfortable. This guard was no exception.  
He put both hands up as a friendly gesture. "Sorry. Are you a demigod?"  
"A what?"  
"A demigod. Half Roman god or goddess, half mortal."  
"The only thing I've seen out of Roman Mythology are the monsters."  
He raised an eyebrow. "Lupa train you?"  
"Lupa?" I cocked my head quizzically.  
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll take you inside."  
He tried to lead me in my putting his arm around me, but I smacked his palm aside and he backed off. At least for a few seconds.  
The tunnel turned to paved brick and torches that didn't seem to give off smoke, with red, lush carpeting and stone walls. The bad paint job started to fade.  
"Welcome to Camp Jupiter," the guard behind me said.  
A sparkling river gushed down the side of the field, with a neat, orderly row of buildings on the other side. People milled around, carting assorted weapons and mythological wonders about. Some odd number of ghosts floated, circling the important buildings. 'House gods,' I thought. The myths-being-real thing even extended to the gods such as Lares, obviously. The guard took off his helmet and unstrapped the rest if his armor. He had really, really unnaturally tanned skin, even so much that he looked like a bronzed Ken doll, and frizzy blond hair that didn't quite seem to along with the superman-style curl hanging from his forehead. He wore a deep purple shirt, identical to everyone else's at the camp. it had 'S•P•Q•R' sprawled across the midsection. He wore it proudly and spread his hands in a 'ta-da' motion, either to himself or to the camp, I didn't quite know.  
The other guard, trekking up behind us, tried to ask the other a question.  
"Marco, do you think Reyna will want to meet-"  
The guard, Marco, waved him off like he was nothing and stroked his hair in an egotistical fashion. "So you didn't find the Wolf House, did you?" he turned to me and asked, staring at my eyes and floating his hand around my shoulder, looking for an opportunity to dive in and put a hand on me.  
I stared at him blankly. "The Wolf House?"  
"Yeah, its a building in SF where Lupa trains newly-found half-bloods.  
"Half-bloods?"  
"Another name for a demigod."  
"So you're a half-blood?" I asked.  
"Yeah. Everyone here is, unless they're a legacy, a child of children of the gods."  
"And me..?"  
"Probably. Otherwise you wouldn't have seen me and Jacob over there, guarding the entrance."  
"Why not?"  
"There's this thing called the Mist that separates the mortal side of the world from the mythological side of the world. It kind of pulls the wool over mortals' eyes so they don't freak out when they see a monster or a god or something else. What do you see?"  
I looked around, gazing at the sights. "Well, there's some kids over there with swords."  
He nodded and waved his hand, telling me to go on.  
"..and you're wearing gold armor. And there's ghosts floating around, Lares, aren't they called?"  
He whistled. "Yep, you're a demigod."  
"Just like that? No need for me to sign anywhere?"  
He guffawed. "No, no. I didn't explain this to you well enough, did I? When a god falls in love with a mortal woman, and they love each other very very much, they-"  
"It was a joke."  
"Oh. Well, anyways-"  
"What if a goddess fell in love with a mortal guy? Would they have a demigod child too?"  
"Yes. Except, usually, the child is born in Olympus."  
"So the gods are here. In America."  
"The gods switch countries every so often. They were in Greece, originally. Rome perfected their personifications. They moved onto Europe, and now they're here, more or less, it's called Western Civilization now," he shrugged.  
"What about Olympus and all those sorts?"  
"Olympus, we have determined, is around the Manhattan area in New York. The east is bad luck, though, so it's forbidden to be there."  
I nodded my head. "Ok, I want to go home now."  
He threw back his head and laughed. I resented that. It wasn't my fault that I didn't know everything about Rome.  
"I was unsure at first, but now I'm sure that you didn't meet Lupa."  
"Who exactly is Lupa, again?"  
"The big mama wolf goddess. She's trained everyone here."  
I shook my head and darted my eyes around to avoid making eye contact. If Lupa was a goddess, even a she-wolf one, I didn't think se would approve very much of being referred to as 'the big mama wolf goddess.'  
He tutted his tongue in an unfashionable way. "Reyna won't like to hear that. Well, what's a bit of Roman training? Come on sweet, she'll want to meet you." He tried to put his arm around me like I was a possession of his.  
I shot him an angry glare and pointed a finger directly at him. "Don't touch me."  
He laughed a bit at my remark and tried instead to hold my hand. I slapped his arm, but he didn't seem to care. 'What a jerk,' I thought rebelliously to myself. 'He thinks he can just come say hi and then be all manly-heroic-stereotype to me. Well, I won't have any of it.'  
We walked past the barracks, passing a Lare on the way chasing after a ghostly dog.  
Marco sneered, an expression that I'd never guess could find its way onto his face. "Don't mind the ghosts. They're just dusty old dead people."  
"What was that?" A voice said, shimmering into existence.  
Marco stuck his tongue out like a little kid. "Vitellius, meet Vencia. She just arrived at the Caldecott tunnel."  
The ghostly figure looked me up and down. "Hm, a girl," he nodded to Marco. "Just in your... field of expertise, being around all those whor-"  
Marco cut him off, "Shut up."  
Vitellius shook his face in utter shock and said, "Well, I never!" I found him quite amusing. "Son of Apollo talking like that to a Lare.."  
"So you're a Lare," I tried I make conversation while all 3 of us walked, well, Vitellius hovered, further on the path,  
He looked quite smug and pleased with my inquisition. "Yes, yes I am, my dear demigod! Finally, someone who adresses us by our titles, not the phrase 'dusty old house gods,' hmmm, Marco?"  
I stifle my laughter. Vitellius seemed like a cheery, eccentric old sort. Even in death.  
"I don't want to hear another one of your lectures, Vitellius," Marco spat. I wondered how he could be so rude. "Vencia here hasn't been properly trained by Lupa," he noted.  
Vitellius sputtered, "What? That's absurd!"  
I shrugged. "Sorry. Who is Lupa, by the way?"  
"I told you," Marco repeated. "The mama wolf."  
"She is the trainer of Romulus and Remus," Vitellius ignored Marco, "the great she-wolf goddess. All is safe under her domain."  
I blinked. "Wow. I've heard the story of Romulus and Remus, but beer this part about Lupa."  
"Lucky," Marco mumbled.  
"Oh, don't be silly," Vitellius chuckled. "Behind every great man is an even better woman, be it his mother, his lover, or his sister," he stated. "Lupa counts as a woman, if you go by my opinion."  
Marco made a sour face. "We don't need to hear of your fantasies," he suggested.  
Forgive me if I'm wrong, but it looked like Vitellius blushed a bit, a different color tone in the mist that he was made of. "No!" He denied, "no, no, no, nothing of the sort, not that Lupa wouldn't-isn't-ah-oh, go to Pluto!"  
He vanished, me being quite the envious one, and left me alone with Marco on the worn paved road.  
"I'll take you to go see Reyna now," he commented, looking as happy as ever. I wondered why he had been so rude with Vitellius. "She'll refer you to my bro, Octavian, so it's basically a waste of time talking to her, but... well, I guess I could take you to see him first. Meh. Come on."  
I followed him into the less-inhabited regions of the camp, as far as I could see. The road forked in two and led either to a collection of oddly-shaped temples and buildings, or towards a statue and more Roman-designed structures. Marco veered toward a large domed temple and thunder shook the skies.  
I shivered. Thunderstorms had scared me as a kid. Whenever a monster or something else attacked the me and the current foster family I was living with, it always seemed to be raining with a lightning storm in the distance. I thought of a vague memory of a hellhound barking at the door and the power going out in the house. My foster mother at the time screamed at me that I was a devil child. My eyes, even at this present time, started to water.  
Marco caught notice of this. "You alright?" He asked, seeming more concerned about the deliberation of whether my eyes would get puffy or not more than if I was ok.  
I nodded. "Yeah, just... an allergy."  
He shrugged to himself and moved on.  
We finally came to the temple. A golden, intricately carved statue of Jupiter, I guessed, holding a lightning bolt, stood smack in the center of the large, airy room. A scrawny blond kid manned an offering table below it with a mess of cotton smeared crudely all over the place. Marco grinned even wider. "Octavian!" He called out, raising a hand like he was an old friend. The kid at the stone alter turned around with a razor-sharp knife in his hands, and for a second I thought he was going to gut us. Then he shook all over like he was coming out of a trance and his facial features relaxed. "Marco., yes... how's it going, my dear brother?" I made a sour face. They were brothers? Octavian had the slightest look of craziness in his eyes, like he had just played the most intense Call of Duty session in his life. Marco's eyes shone with pride and hubris, probably making me look as irked as Octavian. Whenever a person has too much luck, or were too proud of themselves for nothing, my eyes always twitch and my hands get shaky. Then they'd befall a tragedy or bad luck like one time the school bully's cat died. It's strange. Whenever I'd tell my mortal friends about it, they'd inch away and call me a jealous psycho among other things. At least being at Camp Jupiter made me feel like I want alone. I had yet to decide if it was a good or bad quality.  
"I'm Octavian's #1 supporter," Marco boasted.  
Octavian didn't seemed pleased to have Marco snuggling up right next to him, but he nodded. "That he is. One of my loyalist followers," he added, "and gods know I could use the help." He pointed at Marco and mouthed "combat backup" to me. I winked slightly, to give off the effect that I knew what he was talking about, but still wasn't sure about Octavian. He seemed shifty and the fact that I had realized the cotton on the table came from a massacred horde of gored stuffed animals piled up in the corner didn't make his first impression better. Octavian smacked a beanie baby into the pile with the back of his hand like it was nothing and gestured me to make myself at home, even though there were no chairs or seating.  
"What's up with the pile of mutilated teddy bears in the corner?" I bluntly asked.  
Octavian said, "Hmm? Oh, them?" He waved his hand in a nonchalant way. "They're the modern equivalent of animal intestines. You see, the Romans used to read the gods' messages to mankind through fauna, but it got horribly messy," he carried on, turning away from the massive piles of cotton spewed everywhere. We use stuffed animals now. Same difference. *oxymoron* So, you're looking to join the Legion, are you, erm- I didn't catch your name..?"  
"Vencia."  
"-Vencia. Have you been trained by Lupa?"  
Even though I'd been asked that question about a million times at this camp, his question caught in the pit of my stomach like a fastball. "Uhhhmm.. no.. Is that alright?"  
He frowned. "How did you arrive here, then? I didn't see it in the auguries."  
I told him my full story of how I had been on the run for a few weeks now, and Octavian listened to all of it, which, I had a feeling, wasn't something he did very often.  
"Hmm, strange. The auguries did say something about a refugee, but... it was cryptic. The gods haven't been communicating as much as they used to," he admitted. "I don't know why."  
It was probably because his nosy face sticking into their private business by slaughtering stuffed animals, I thought to myself silently.  
"...there was a rumor of Jupiter closing Olympus's communications, but since it's so far away, we can't really be sure what's happening. We got the idea stuck in our heads from an.. unreliable source, to top it off, so that just adds to the mystery. But no matter, what's important is getting you into the camp," his voice dripped with false sympathy like a poisoned dagger.  
"Tonight, at the dinner, you'll be accepted into the legion. You'll get a little probatio tablet," he picked up a small lead tag on a leather strip from the table randomly and shook it like he was coaxing a dog.  
Marco had a distance look on his face. "I remember when I first came here..."  
Octavian rolled his eyes. "Yes, you do, because it was only a month ago. You were accepted fully only because you pegged those swordsman in the war games," he chided.  
"War games?" I interjected.  
"Oh, just some silly shenanigans here at camp. They usually take place on the Field of Mars over there. But no matter, it's fine. Now that I think about it, I would be really pleased to have you on my side during-"  
He was interrupted by a voice. "Octavian?" A girl shouted. I was surprised at how commanding her voice sounded compared to everyone else's. She was definitely the leader, with a purple cloak and a shining golden spear. "Octavian, we need to talk. You-" she stopped when she saw me. "Who's this?" She asked defensively.  
"Reyna, meet Vencia. Vencia, meet Reyna. She's the.. praetor."  
"And you're just the augur," she reminded him. "Pleasure," she shook my hand hastily and glared lividly at Octavian. "You don't have the permission to let people into camp without my permission. Ever." Her tone was so stern, I thought Octavian was going to break down right before everyone's eyes and start groveling, but he didn't. "I'm so sorry, Reyna," he apologized, "but I know how terribly busy you are, and, well.. I was just trying to help." His words crafted around everyone, ensuring that they would see things Octavian's way and not Reyna's. She scowled, but seemed to let it go and glanced at me. "At least your judgement wasn't too poor. Come on," she beckoned to me, and I stood up. Marco yelled, "You don't have to follow her orders, you know!" She yelled curses in Latin to him and said, "I'm the praetor! Jason and I rule this camp, and Marco, may I remind you that you have been claimed a week ago? You have no authority at this camp whatsoever." We walked out, Octavian no doubt spamming lies about us.  
Reyna muttered on the way out, "I hate that son of a hellhound, that scum, that-"  
"What's wrong with him?"  
She seemed caught off guard by the question, and almost cracked a smile. "A lot of things. But most of all, he's a compulsive liar and a thief."  
"Yeah, I got that feeling from him," I joked a bit.  
She looked unsure, as if debating whether it not to trust me completely. "Yeah, sure."  
She was so angry with Octavian, and yet a bit of jealousy seeped into her tone. She was the praetor, the leader of Camp Jupiter, but Octavian was obviously trying to take her place. He had a way with words as she had a way with battle. I guess she envied him a bit, but I wouldn't dare say that in front of her unless I wanted to end up in a freezer somewhere.  
"So he and Marco are brothers?" I asked.  
She wrinkled her nose. "No. Octavian's a legacy of Apollo, while Marco's one of his sons. So Marco is a bit like Octavian's great-great-uncle.  
"Ew."  
"I guess they call each other brother to simplify the situation. Nevertheless, they treat each other like brothers. Octavian relies mostly on Marco to scribe for him or to do menial tasks like fetch more stuffed animals."  
I shivered at the thought of the beanie baby massacre going on down there. It would've been less disturbing for them to be ripping up real animal parts instead of tearing apart children's toys.  
"Octavian takes the auguries pretty seriously, even though they're just piles of fluff. He couldn't fight for his life if he had to," she looked off into the distance and gripped the hilt of her golden dagger. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "Octavian's a jerk, but you don't need to hear all these troubles. You obviously didn't make it to the Wolf House, but come with me. I'll assess your skill instead."  
She led me off down the road. I gulped. Was it that obvious? Did I look weak? Or was there some sort of an aura that you gained by training with Lupa? Nevertheless, everyone at camp asked me about her, so she and her training must have been pretty important.  
We walked along the path back toward the barracks and where all of the hustle and bustle was. She led me to a warehouse with a huge assortment of golden tools, weapons, and armor.  
I guessed that most people here at camp used golden gear. That didn't make sense, seeing as gold is the densest metal, but no one seemed to mind. I found two-handed swords, one-handed swords, maces, daggers, knives, brass knuckles, bows, plentiful arrows in quivers, golden helmets, chest plates, gauntlets, bracers, leggings, boots, pauldrons, and more. All the armor shone like gems, and I could see why. A few kids in the back were taking turns polishing every single piece of gear. It seemed cruel but fair. Everyone had to pull their weight, I guess, and I'd probably be on polishing duty in a bit after I got accepted into the camp and given the rank of probatio.  
Reyna ran her fingers along a few select items. Every weapon she picked up, she seemed like she had been working her whole lie around training with that one single sword, knife, or bow.  
She then tossed me a leather belt with a sword in the side scabbard. "Try that on for size," She commanded. I didn't hesitate. The blade was heavy and flat, with a wickedly sharp edge to it.  
"Are you sure about this?"  
Her face was calm and she shrugged, blowing a strand of black hair out of her her face. "Swords are the most common weapon of a Roman, other than a spear. They have a good reach and a lethal blade, enough to kill your enemies with one glance. That's a pilum, the most common of all of them." We came out of the weapons hall and into the sunlight, back onto the huge road. I wondered how all of the campers walked on it every day to their activities and training.  
The path led to a huge clearing, the Field of Mars, Octavian had called it. "This is usually used for War Games and Deathball," she continued, "but it can be used for one-on-one training, too." A few kids in the distance kicked and sparred with each other, using swords, knives, and other loads of equipment. She drew her own sword that I hadn't seen on her before, probably hidden in her purple cloak, and turned it around on its hilt. "Ready?"  
"What?" I asked unknowingly, feeling embarrassed as ever.  
She tried not to roll her eyes, but spoke in a more direct tone, as if she were instructing a child. "Ready to fight? I'll assess how skilled you are and you'll get a real weapon."  
I glanced at the sword she had given me. "This isn't a real weapon?"  
She chuckled. "It's real. You just don't own a weapon yet. You see, Camp Jupiter gives out swords and shields and other things, but first a probatio must be trained to fight with one first. Now, shall we begin?"  
I probably muttered something like "Uh... ok." Right before she knocked me to the ground and had her sword an inch away from my undefended chest. A mild look of disappointment crept onto her face. "I can see we have a lot of work to do. Here, hold the hilt of your sword like this and put your opposite leg out. Are you left-handed or right-handed?"  
"Right-handed."  
"Ok, put your left foot out and face me, your opponent. Hold your sword high, but your hands shouldn't be an inch higher than your shoulders. Raise the blade like this." The sword was heavy and unbalanced. I had to utilize all my strength to grasp the hilt and hover it in an offensive position.  
"There." She adjusted my footing and drew her spear. "I'll go easy on you. Try to attack me, your instincts should kick in."  
I nodded, hoping she'd keep her word. I gritted my teeth nervously as she stabbed the ground where I was standing. I had jumped out of the way just barely as the point of her spear nailed the cuff of my jean and tore it off. I raised my sword to block her and tried to snap her spear's shaft in half. I had seen people do that in the movies a few times and decided to test it out. No such luck. Before the blade could even get within a 4 foot radius of her, she ducked my swing and started to transform her spear into the throwing type, a javelin, and chucked it at me. I sidestepped and slammed the hilt of my sword against her helmet, half of that move came by accident. She frowned, and I was afraid I had done something wrong, but she recovered and her weapon morphed into a curved dagger and she stabbed at me. I could barely manage to catch up, hauling the heavy sword around, and eventually tripped on an intricate carved metal pole sticking straight out of the ground. Reyna didn't go after me, but instead helped me up and furrowed her eyebrows.  
"That shouldn't be here."  
"Why, does it belong to someone?"  
"I don't know, but what is a comb doing at the Fields of Mars?"  
"A comb?" I looked at my feet and sure enough, a silver metal comb was jutting out of the dirt. "I couldn't have tripped on that."  
She shrugged. "You must have."  
I pried it out of the earth and stroked the ends of it with my thumb a bit. It transformed into a silver staff about the half the height of me. It was topped with a carved dragon's head at the top, sneering and looking like it was about to spit poison. Reyna took a step back.  
"A staff? What is a staff doing here? It's silver... I haven't seen anything like this since the great Lycanthrope attack a few years ago."  
"Is that good?" I asked hesitantly.  
"If you can fight with it. Not many people here are staff fighters, you see. It's more like a downgraded spear without the tip of metal at the end, and it's shorter than a spear, too. It's the only weapon I don't fully know how to use. Children of Trivia sometimes wield staffs, but only for events where they want to demonstrate their magic to others."  
"So.. do you think I could fight with this?"  
She pondered the question for a bit and tilted her head. "I guess. If you can."  
I gripped the staff tight and stared at the back of the dragon's head. It was lighter than I had expected. Reyna tried to hide a disapproving look, as if the staff would fly to my opponent's side during battle.  
I studied the writing on the side. It wasn't Latin, for one. It wasn't English, either. I could barely make out the word: "Dovahkiin". Whatever that means. It sounded like Norwegian or something if I said it out loud, and Reyna didn't seem to notice the glyphs.  
"How did you change your weapon like that?" I asked.  
"Hmm?"  
"When we were fighting, your sword changed to a spear, and then a knife."  
"Oh, power of Bellona, my mother," she dismissed calmly, a proud smile on her face. "Goddess of weapons and war."  
"I thought the patron for war was Mars," I noted.  
"Yes, but Rome has quite a few war gods. It's just that Mars is the most famous because he is literally the father of Rome."  
I remembered the myth of Romulus and Remus, and how their father had been Mars. It was a bit awkward that since the gods were immortal, they could have children who were adults and also normal children. I wondered if I had any siblings who were in their 30s.  
"Who's my godly parent?"  
Her proud smile dropped. "The gods have many children, Vencia. You could be a child of Venus, or maybe Ceres. How old are you?"  
"Thirteen."  
"The gods should claim you soon. For some reason, they started claiming demigods at a younger age after the Second Titan War."  
"The Second Titan War?"  
"Last month, Saturn rose again, along with some of the other Titans. They wanted to destroy Western Civilization. Jason Grace, the other praetor," she sounded a bit dreamy, "toppled Krios's throne and Saturn faded back to Tartarus with his base of operations dissolved."  
"Didn't the mortals see this?"  
She shook her head. "No. The Mist, the outer layer that protects mortals from seeing things as they really are, was enhanced by quite a lot. Trivia, along with the most of the minor gods, helped out the Titans."  
"But they wanted to destroy us!" I cried. "That's terrible! So the minor gods were willing to kill off their own children?"  
She shrugged. "I do not know what they saw in the Titans. The minor gods have never been the most loyal of deities. They're bitter and scared that they won't be worshipped. Cowards. As for their children, they all turned traitor as well. At the end, the minor gods eventually surrendered to Olympus's forces."  
"What about Bellona?"  
She gripped the leather hilt of her sword and gave me a piercing stare that froze me in fear. "Bellona is the patroness of Rome. She would never leave the gods."  
I made a noise something like a mix between a submissive whimper and a mouse's squeak.  
"Of course not! I-I was just asking. For future reference."  
She sneered and put her blade away. "Yes. Fine. Test that staff out in combat."  
"Now?"  
She rolled her eyes, losing her temper a bit. "Yes, now. When and where did you think, at the baths?"  
"I don't even know how to use it, though."  
"Well, I don't either, so good luck with that."  
I readied myself in the way she had shone me. I bent my knees and crouched, holding the staff in my hand like a walking stick. She raised her sword and I dodged, but just barely. I tried to concentrate on the staff. It had to have some sort of magical power, right? I whipped myself around, being an overall coward to Reyna's blade, but in real combat, I would have still been alive. My eyebrows furrowed, thinking about how I could possibly attack with the staff. Reyna stabbed downwards at me, and I blocked by putting the pole part of the staff between her and I, glowing sparks flinging out like in the movies. I gritted my teeth and ducked underneath the business end of what was now a spear.  
I started to focus on my anger. That deep, boiling resentment inside of me that just hated everything in the world. And my hope, the thing that kept me from going flipping insane. I concentrated on the two, imagining them living in harmony and counterbalancing each other, and the staff came to life. The dragon's eyes burning with rage, a white-hot fireball spewed from its mouth and almost nailed Reyna, landing right at her feet in a miniature explosion. She stopped and grinned. "I think you found out how to use the staff."


	2. Chapter 2: Dressing for Dinner

Chapter 2: Dressing for Dinner

Reyna led me down to the baths to get cleaned up and ready for evening muster.  
Let me just add in right now, you have not seen daylight until you have had a  
Roman bath. Now, I know it sounds totally ridiculous, but something about the  
steam and perfectly warm water was just amazing. And unlike Ancient Rome, the  
baths at Camp Jupiter were totally private, with luxurious walled-off sections  
for each individual. I walked out of there with more confidence than I had  
gathered up in my entire lifetime. The staff that I had found managed to revert  
back into a comb, and I holstered it in my back jean pocket.

It was getting to be dusk already, and they called muster by blowing horns  
across the camp like Reyna ha told me they would. I raced to the Via Praetoria,  
weaving my way throughout obstacles in the road. I sprinted past a unicorn and  
ducked a javelin. I leapt over a cart full of ambrosia and fell over, twisting  
my ankle. I yelped as I went down. In self-pity, I rubbed my foot and a shadow  
casted over me. When I looked up, I squinted, for the sun was perched right on  
the figure's head.

"Hey! Vencia, I'm glad you could make it!" He leaned in as he spoke  
so his face was about an inch away from mine. Marco was still dressed in his  
sparkling armor. You'd think after running through the streets of Camp Jupiter,  
it'd get dusty or something.

"Um, yeah. I should probably get going for evening muster, Reyna told me  
to-"

He scoffed. "Who cares about Reyna? Octavian told me to come get you so  
you could join the legion."

I stared at him blankly. "He did?"

"Yeah, come on."

"Well, I-"

"Come on."

I had no choice but to follow him. Our footsteps echoed on the paved stone road  
and I did a double take. About 200 kids in golden armor and purple t-shirts  
were lined up in a neat, orderly fashion and they all stood as stiff as gravestones.  
I focused in on a couple of faces to make sure they blinked. Marco looked  
proud, as if he himself had brought the entire Roman Armada together.

Nevertheless, I was starting to feel comfortable around camp. I knew some of  
the people. My knowledge of Mythology was great. Reyna hadn't killed me yet. I  
was technically a Roman, or, at least, going to be in a matter of minutes.

Reyna circled around on a creamy-colored pegasus, her hair billowing under a  
golden helmet. "Campers, assemble!" She called from way up high.  
Marco, instead of running into position with the others, led me up to the  
front, where Octavian, and the other guard that had greeted me at the Caldecott  
tunnel stood with a huge golden pole. If there was a thunderstorm, he would  
surely have been electrocuted.

Reyna landed and dismounted.

"We have a demigod seeking to join the Legion!" she announced,  
everyone suddenly staring at me. I was petrified, mostly because of stage  
fright. "Her name is Vencia Stiltson. She is unclaimed."

No thunder shook the building. No crazy light phenomenon phased across the sky.  
A person coughed in the crowd below, and that was about it. I felt a sadness  
lurking around inside of me. Was my godly parent knowledgeable of me? Did they  
even remember my mortal parent, whomever that was? Or were they just not proud  
of me, maybe I had done something wrong. Maybe I should have mailed a happy  
mother's/father's day card to Olympus.

Reyna lowered her arms. "The gods do not see fit to claim her yet. This is  
fine. Octavian," her voice changed to utter bitterness and hatred,  
"what do the auguries say?"

He grasped his knife and tore apart a plush Angry Bird, examining the fluff and  
making me grimace. I had once played a demo in the Apple Store one time before  
a cyclops kicked the glass walls in. "The auguries are favoring! Do you  
have any papers?"

"Papers?"

"Notes from retired demigods or veterans of the camp, sort of a  
sponsorship."

"Um.. no."

Octavian wrinkled his nose unfashionably. Will anyone stand for her?"

Marco cried out, "I will!" In a boasting way. He tried to hug me, but  
I dodged and he stumbled a little. "She saved my life!"

I looked at him in confusion. "No, I didn't."

"Well, maybe you didn't. But still."

I held a bit of resentment in. I should be able to get into this camp without  
his help.

"Very well, then," Octavian said.

"Another soldier for the fifth," he smirked. Some people in the  
audience groaned.

"The fifth what?" I asked, mystified.

"Cohort. Depending on letters and references, you'll get placed in a  
different one. They're kind of like groups that separate and organize the  
camp," Reyna explained.

"The fifth's the worst," the guard holding the pole muttered.  
"At least the third doesn't get stable duty."

Reyna glared at him crossly. "Jacob, be quiet."

He pushed back his visor, revealing a chubby face sprayed all over with  
freckles. He looked a bit startled, like someone had poked a very scared, very  
angry little weasel.

Reyna handed me a leather strip with a single lead tablet on it and I slipped  
it onto my neck.

"Ave, hail!" Everyone shouted, the words echoing out like a sonic  
boom.

"To mess, then!" Octavian intervened, gaining the favor of the  
audience. Everyone cheered and moved out.

Dinner was a disaster. It started with confusion. I had lost Reyna and  
everybody else I was familiar with in the bustling crowd, so I didn't know  
where to sit. I had to duck every 1 or 2 seconds to avoid being pummeled by  
flying food. Wind nymphs carted various dishes around, catering to everyone's  
personal pleasures like in a resort. Finally, I rediscovered Reyna and everyone  
else. She led me to a dining sofa, Roman style, plus introduced me to all the  
other campers, and I felt overwhelmed within a matter of minutes. The names  
whizzed by me like the food in the mess hall. Bobby, Hank, Larry. All of these  
important people made me cower in respect. Marco, however, was as boastful as  
ever.

"...And that time we slew the Trojan Sea Monster was a blast, wasn't  
it?" He addressed one of the legionnaires, who promptly rolled their eyes  
and tried to correct him. "Vencia! Guys, I'd like you to meet Vencia. She  
was just accepted into the camp."

I put my hand up shyly. "Hi," I greeted.

"You ready for the War Games?" A guy drinking Red Kool-Aid, I think  
his name was Dakota, asked me.

I sat down on the plush couch. "I think so," I nervously said.  
Everyone was paying attention to me, nodding and looking at me in anticipation,  
like they expected me to do a backflip or something.

"Good," Gwen said cheerfully. "We need the optimism. With that  
attitude, we'll surely win!"

I chuckled nervously to myself. The staff in its comb form began to grow  
blistering cold in my pocket. I curled my lip and gripped it tight. It would  
have been pretty embarrassing if it grew to full size in my hand right then and  
there, probably spearing through me.

Dakota muttered something in his golden goblet. Was everything at this freaking  
camp gold? You think they'd hire a designer or something. All the bling was  
hurting my eyes.

I sat down at the table, a bit unsure of if I called an aurae over or what.

Gwen grinned and said, "Just visualize what you want and it'll appear in  
front of you."

I frowned and doubted her at first, but after realizing I could have anything I  
wanted, it was awesome. It wasn't any day that I could have a steak dinner with  
marbled cheesecake for dessert.

I found it a bit unnerving, though, how everyone at the sofa seemed to stare at  
me throughout the meal. Octavian sized me up as if I might be a valuable asset  
to him or not. Marco gazed at me wide-eyed as if he had never seen another  
person before.

"War Games," I pushed for conversation. "What are they  
about?"

Marco scoffed. "Nothing much, I suppose."

Reyna glared at him. "They test your battle skills as a Roman  
soldier," she prompted. "One of the activities here at camp."

"In other words, nothing much," Octavian muttered.

"What was that, Octavian? Did you have some input?"

He shook his head no and she smirked. "I thought not. You needn't  
worry."

"Of course not," Dakota said from inside his goblet. "The 5th  
always gets creamed."

Reyna chuckled mockingly. "Not always. You'd be surprised what good  
teammates can do to a team."

"I just hope no one dies this time," Gwen whispered.

Octavian smirked. "Not now, not that we've banned you-know-who."

"Who?" I asked.

"Death breath," Marco chortled.

"What?"

"Nothing," Reyna dismissed. "Let's get you suited up."


	3. Chapter 3: That Guy in the Black Armor

Chapter 3: That Guy in the Black Armor

"A blessing to all of you!" Octavian shouted across the field, the  
grass rippling. Yeah right, a blessing. A blessing to get all of the 5th cohort  
slaughtered. The field of Mars had been redesigned by a few demigods of Ceres,  
by the looks of it. A lush forest had sprouted up overnight. Two fortresses  
stood opposite each other, as if marching into battle themselves. After the 5th  
cohort formed lines behind Dakota and Gwen, the battle was mayhem.

I tried to keep myself hidden and crept silently across the border, eyeing the  
enemy wall on the opposite side. I knew that the defense was on high alert  
tonight, for they had lost two weeks in a row before. They weren't going to  
lose now. I held my breath, just hoping that maybe, whatever I did, would make  
my divine parent proud. Maybe he or she would see it. Maybe everyone at Camp  
Jupiter would see it. I felt the social pressure weighing on my shoulders like  
a pile of sandbags.

Suddenly, I heard a few confused yells and shouts coming from my left. I  
whipped out the comb and brushed my thumb against the metal fingers and it  
instantly transformed into the dragon-headed staff I had handled a bit ago.  
Even here, at Camp Jupiter, monsters got into the borders. It was rare to see a  
hellhound at camp, but still. Nothing could prevent the valley from being  
attacked fully. My eyes narrowed, searching for trouble, and I took a few steps  
back in hesitance. My golden armor probably reflected light in all directions,  
giving off my location to the 1th and 2th cohorts.

Clumsily, I backed into someone. Clang. The sound of our armor pieces clashing  
together echoed out and pierced the night, scaring me out of my mind. I swung  
the heavy staff as best I could around to the guy's torso.

He ducked and I blinked, hard, and narrowed my eyes in. He wasn't there. I  
pivoted around and found him right behind me, sword raised. I moved out of the  
way and got my first look at him.

He was about 5' 7", and dressed in full black combat armor that blended in  
with the shadows. I felt inadequate with only my standard imperial golden  
greaves, breastplate, and pauldrons, but it was as much as I could handle  
without crumpling under the weight of all the heavy plate metal. He sheathed  
his sword, a chilling sharpened rod created out of a strange black metal, about  
3 feet long in length. It was etched with silver along the bound leather hilt,  
which had a skull at the base of the sword. Forged in the middle of its jaw, a  
diamond sprouted out and shone in the night. I couldn't read the demigod's face  
through his skull-shaped visor, but he seemed kind enough.

I patted the dragon topping my staff and it shrunk back into a compact comb. I  
still had it in my hand and took a step back.

"Cohort?" I asked, my voice defensive and nervous.

He hesitated, then chuckled. "None. But I'm playing on the 3rd, 4th, an  
5th's side tonight."

I slipped the comb into my pocket halfheartedly. None? How could he have no cohort,  
but was allowed into the war games? "I'm 5th," I agreed. He took off  
his helmet and smiled.

His hair was a wavy, black mess, framing his pale face and deep, sunken onyx  
eyes. They had a glint of ingenuity and slight commandeering authority, staring  
into the shadows solemnly like he was going to have to perform a funeral in a  
bit. His hardened stare softened a bit when he looked at me, making me feel a  
bit more comfortable. He wore a dry smile on his face, but an underlying  
sadness surrounded him, as if he was an uninvited guest at a party, who knew  
that he hadn't gotten an invite in the mail on purpose. I tugged at my sleeves  
nervously. He asked simply, "What's your name?"

"Vencia Stiltson," I approached.

"Nico di Angelo. Ambassador of Pluto." He hesitated after that,  
eyeing me carefully, as if watching to see if I'd start backing away slowly.

After seeing as I didn't, he seemed a bit confused, but asked me,"So, are  
you on offense?"

I nodded. "The first said that we'll never make it inside. Their reinforcements  
are too strong."

He scoffed, surprising me. Even though the first and second cohort were jerks  
to everyone else, they usually didn't get much open criticism. "They're  
just trying to act intimidating. The inside is lit up pretty well, but the center,  
where they're keeping the banner, isn't very bright at all. Like their wits. It  
should be pretty easy to shadow travel in there," he muttered, "but  
they always accuse me of cheating."

"Shadow travel?" I asked tentatively.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"So how do we take on the 1st and 2nd?" I asked. It felt nice having  
someone to talk to, even if it was just about war strategies.

He fingered his helm and placed it back on his head like a crown. I was a bit  
disappointed that he did so, even though the full suit of armor made him look  
like a total badarse. "I may have an idea. Follow me," he urged and  
leapt into the darkness ahead.

Easy for him to say. He showed such skill climbing the other team's wall, and I  
had to scale slowly up it. My heavy armor weighed me down quite a bit, and it  
was giving me heatstroke even in the cold evening air. Nico helped me over a  
tripwire, careful not to set it off.

"Stay here. I'll try to sneak past the guards."

I looked him up and down. In that armor? The room was decorated flourished with  
red carpet and purple steams of velvet down the sides of the grey stone walls.  
About 4 guards flanked the odd number of legionnaires inside. "Are you  
sure about this?"

He smirked. "No. But if it works, we'll surely win. Just be ready for a  
battle."

I brushed my comb and it turned into a staff just in case. He seemed mildly  
impressed with my weaponry.

"And don't freak."

"About what?" I asked quizzically.

He gripped the leather hilt of his sword and gritted his teeth.

"This."

He vanished into darkness and I was left alone stifling a scream.

"What- where-? How did you do that?" I whispered.

"Shh," a voice cooed from the shadows. Nico's silhouette was barely  
visible against the paved stone walls. A torch brazier flickered and he was  
visible for a moment, a dark figure in black armor leaning against the wall.  
The torch dimmed all of a sudden, and a guard came out halfway to check. About  
2 feet of stone separated me from getting caught. I heard an exclaim, and a  
metallic bang, like the flat of a sword knocking out someone. Two of the  
legionnaires came out to check, and the floor beneath me rumbled.

A guard started, "What the-"

"Pluto!" The other finished.

A hissing, clattering noise arose, and their voices were no more.

That only led to half of our problems. A startled cry yelped across the air,  
and more clamor. I charged in with a fireball blazing in my staff and found  
myself face-to-face with a grinning skeleton in full battle armor. I was about  
to scream, but then I realized it was helping our side. It hissed at a guard,  
who retaliated, and got him up against a corner. The guard whimpered something  
indistinct, and the skeleton whipped out a stun gun and tased him. Jacob, the  
guard whom I had seen at the Caldecott tunnel and then at mess, was there with  
a banner. He yelled some disgraceful remarks at the ground, which hardly made  
sense, and then he crumpled to his knees as if someone had pushed him. I  
scrambled in, whipping my head around the corner, and looked at the damage. A  
fight was still going on, and Nico wasn't concealed anymore. He kicked the  
guard in the gut, but the guard was quick. He slammed his visor on and pressed  
his sword against Nico's neck. I released the fireball I had been holstering,  
and the guard shot across the room and lay spread-eagled on the floor.

Nico raised an eyebrow. "Nice. Let's get out of here before reinforcements  
arrive." I nodded, still confused about why exactly had happened, and  
picked up one side of the banner. Who knew velvet could weigh so much? Nico  
lifted the other side like we were folding a blanket and draped it over his  
back. We rushed outside, barreling straight through the narrow hallways and  
scaling down the stone wall. I grasped every handhold with a rampant fear of  
falling. One time I had gone rock climbing, but there was no belay here. No net  
below me. Nothing to keep me from falling and breaking my legs. I gritted my  
teeth nervously and my fingers clenched. My foot slipped, and I yelped in  
surprise.

"Holy Styx..." I swore under my breath as tears formed their way  
around the base of my eyes. What was I doing? I was no soldier. Heck, Lupa  
hadn't even trained me. My fingernails dug into the cold, hard conglomerate  
rock with anticipation of injury.

Nico noticed my distress and climbed back up the stone a bit. "It's okay.  
Take a deep breath and just think of your feet being on solid ground," he  
coached.

I shakily answered, "We're so high up..." And got stuck in a daze. I  
have the absolute most perfect timing ever.

He let the banner drop off his arm and gritted his teeth. "I'm going to  
try something. It'll work.. probably." I didn't like the sound of that.  
"Take my hand."

I looked at him like he was crazy. "Are you flipping insane? We're like 30  
feet- oh my gods, even higher than that- like 50 feet above the ground..."

He looked at me, and I could see that he really didn't care about winning the  
games. All he cared about was that we got down safely, with or without the  
banner. "Take my hand. Trust me."

I took a shaky breath and let go of the crevice that I had been grasping onto  
for dear life.

"I trust you."

The night seemed to bend around us. The people below crowding around seemed to  
fade, and light became a memory. All I could see was Nico's faint silhouette in  
front of me, guiding me through the darkness. I relaxed, finally, and we  
entered the light again. I looked behind, to see where we had come from, but  
behind us was just a shady patch of grass. This time, we were standing on the  
hard, solid ground, and a few campers had given Nico back the banner. He smiled  
faintly and draped the cloth over both of us.

A horn sounded in the distance. I thought that meant we had won, but obviously,  
not so. Octavian shoved a few confused soldiers off who tried to congratulate  
us and yelled out to the crowd, "Cheaters!" He stuck a finger  
straight at Nico and sternly muttered under his breath, "You cheating  
scum," He spat on the ground. People had stopped goring each other and  
formed a crowd around us.

Nico calmly stood up straight and showed no anger. "And how did I cheat, Octavian?"

His eyes narrowed. "You know very well!" He shouted out dramatically.  
"I thought I told you not to play in these games."

Nico spread his hands. "You told me nothing, Octavian. And what about you?  
You could have helped your legion."

"You don't even have a legion. Don't try this on me. Raising demons is  
illegal in this camp!"

Nico looked around. "What demons?"

"You know very well!" Octavian screeched. He could barely contain his  
anger, until Reyna stepped in, her purple cloak billowing. "I hate to say  
it, but Octavian is right. The 1st and 2nd win," she admitted reluctantly.  
A unanimous cheer went up from the crowd, and Nico and I got quite nasty looks  
from most of the 3rd, 4th, and 5th legions.

"See me in the principia in a few minutes," she commanded.  
"Change out of your armor and be on time."


End file.
